Accidental Anthems
by distinct complicity
Summary: Severus keeps showing up in the most random places. And by random, I mean, everywhere that Remus is.
1. Default Chapter

Note: You may or may not have read parts of this story in other entries of mine. This is a more full version, but nowhere as full as I'd like it to be. It's just been sitting on my computer waiting to be shared.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's books/characters, but my story. 

Spoilers: 3rd book and beyond, I suppose?

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Remus/Severus

Summary: Severus keeps showing up in the most random places. And by random, I mean, everywhere that Remus is.

* * *

We never planned to meet each other. We just knew where to find each other.

For example, it was very unlikely that we would be at every single Quidditch match. I would go to the Gryffindor matches to support James but that was the extent of my interest. _He_ caught onto that as well after time, and I would see his miserable face staring back at me from across the stands knowing full well that he was enduring torture of the most horrible kind. But he was there. I like to think that he came there because I was there and not only to jeer at my house team. It could have been a bit of both, actually. He had the most excellent and satisfied smirk on his lips if Gryffindor did lose that it made me laugh every time I saw it. I suspected that no one heard me laugh (as I didn't laugh _too_ loud) or just didn't say anything after a while… but no one could miss his smirk. Students and teachers saw that smirk from miles away. Everyone knew about Severus Snape's distaste for the Gryffindor team. Everyone knew about his distaste for one player especially. Poor James.

When I noticed his habit of attending only Gryffindor games, I thought I'd be smart and call him on it.

"I'm only there to watch them fail miserably. They wouldn't be such a bad team if they didn't have Potter. Poor planning on the captain's part; I'm sure that even the most mediocre player could do better than him."

Of course I was a bit daft when it came to playing the game, so I couldn't tell if James was a poor player or not. I was just there to support my friend. I smiled and waved and cheered if he flew close by and he would do the same as he passed… even if he was supposed to be keeping an eye on the game.

"So, you don't attend your own house games?"

"No." He shrugged. "I'm interested in the sport so long as Gryffindor doesn't win."

"If Slytherin were to win…"

"Doesn't matter, as long as it means Potter's head doesn't swell ten times it's normal size from winning, I am satisfied."

"That's poor sportsmanship."

"I am not playing. Nor will you ever see me riding a broomstick to play a game."

"Broomsticks are strictly for transportation, then?"

"Broomsticks are strictly for sweeping." The boy corrected me.

"Right, right." I sighed and turned down the other hallway to head in a direction other than his, as I found myself embarrassed at my lack of knowledge of the sport (and for bringing up the conversation in the first place as if I were insinuating something. Which I was). I never looked up to see his reaction, but never heard him call out for me so it was just as well that I did.

* * *

Another example comes to mind as well. I mean, it's not exactly the most subtle example… at least it's less subtle than him attending the same games that I attend. We "meet" in the library every evening. I say "meet" as if it was planned ahead of time, when it's not. At least, it wasn't the first few times we realized we went to the library at the same time after supper. And by the same time, I mean, it was never _directly_ after supper for me. For a while I thought the same of him although it never dawned on me until now to ask him if he went to his room before going to the library or if he just went there directly after our meal. In any case, it was always after supper. Always at the same table. He was always there first. He never looked up to greet me like James or Peter or Sirius (or even Lily) might do. He never made a fuss over seeing me there, as if I was a permanent fixture there, like himself.

He never asked what I was up to. I asked, though. It was always Potions this, Potions that. You would think he attended no other classes. If I asked even further about Potions, he would start going into complex practices and ingredients and sometimes it would just go over my head but I would still listen to him as if I knew about what he was speaking about. I wondered sometimes if I hid the fact that I didn't know what in Merlin's name he was going on about, and one time he actually caught me as if he had read my mind.

"You have no clue as to what I'm speaking about, do you?" He interrupted his own speech.

"Well. Not really. But that's okay, you can go on."

"Go on and stare at that blank expression on your face?"

"Is it so horrible that I like listening to you talk about your interests?"

He was suddenly speechless. _Well was it?_ He looked at me, not knowing how to go on anymore, and scribbled something on his parchment. I looked over to see if I could make it out, but that was all it was. Scribble. And then the scribble unscrambled into words that read "it is not so horrible."

* * *

When we met it wasn't planned, and therefore we didn't have a plan as to what to do with our time together. Sometimes I would be sitting at a random place in the courtyard alone and he would come sit with me. He didn't ask if he could, he only looked around, probably to make sure that my friends weren't around. I never told him that I went to the courtyard at a particular time of the day, because I didn't… or at least I wasn't aware that I did. We had similar schedules when it came to classes, though, so it wasn't so surprising that he would be in the same area, would it be? And why not sit next to me? It was better than sitting alone. If he was going to be in the courtyard, might as well. No use in sitting at opposite sides of the yard.

We didn't have much to say all the time. Sometimes we would just be silent and stare down at our shoes. There were things I wanted to talk about with him, sometimes, but I didn't always know how to phrase them. At this particular time I was longing for home more than I cared to admit. Being at school does that to me, sometimes. You think I would be used to sharing a room with three other boys well into my sixth year at Hogwarts, but when it comes down to it, I'm really not. As much time as I share with my friends I need equal time alone. Time to just be. (Probably why I was in the courtyard at the time) I know I'm not truly myself when I'm around my friends. No matter how much they share with me and I share with them there's still a part of myself that is reserved for myself. It's that way with everyone, I think. No matter how much you reveal about yourself there's always more. There's always more…

And it's so grand when things are revealed. I'm not speaking of a feast of revelation, but rather a taste here and a taste there. Isn't that how one enjoys food rather than stuffing themselves silly until they can't bear the sight of food anymore? That's how it should be with getting to know people, I think.

After six years of knowing my closest friends, it makes me smile when I learn something new about them. (It's a cliché to say that you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but really, isn't that a great description?) I might catch something subtle in every day conversation or it might be in something they do that seems completely out of character for them when really, it isn't. I often wonder if they catch on to the same things about me. I hope that they do, since I sometimes have a difficult time revealing myself. Okay, maybe more than sometimes… but what I'm really trying to say is that they don't know who I am when I am alone. They don't know who I am when I'm in the comforts of my own home. People put on different faces in different situations. I can be comfortable at school, especially in my own dorm, but can I be as comfortable as I am at home? Doesn't that show? Doesn't it show that I'm different when I'm in a classroom? Doesn't it show when…

"Do I act different when I'm around you?" It was a bold question, but it had to be answered.

"What do you mean, different?" I caught him off guard. We were deep in thought, both of us. Deep in thought, staring down at our shoes, picking our laces with our wands. The both of us. We hadn't spoke all day to each other up until this point.

"I mean, when I'm around you… do I act differently as opposed to when I'm around….?"

"Whom?" He asked abruptly.

"Well, when I'm around my other friends?"

"Not by much. Well, there is a subtlety."

"Where does the subtlety lie?" I wanted to look up at his face. I knew he was searching my expression for something. I watched him from the corner of my eye.

"You seem a lot more… yourself." He was no longer looking at me, as if he couldn't say it to me straight on.

"How do you know what my self is?"

"What were you thinking of to be asking such ridiculous questions?" He asked. I know he didn't find it very ridiculous. If he had found it ridiculous he would have laughed and ridiculed my conversation… well, ridiculed it even further.

"I was just thinking that I wanted to be home."

"All of this out of wanting to be home? You would really rather be home?"

"Yes. Well, yes and no. I'm alone at home, but sometimes I think that it's better."

"Being alone is always better." The boy frowned. He almost said it like he meant it. "Although, if you were to go home this place would be even more insufferable, if that is humanly possible."

"Are you saying you don't want me to go home?"

Pause.  
Pause.  
Don't look. Don't _look_.

"All I'm saying is that you can do what you want. Obviously I have no say over what you do in your life. What you do is entirely up to you. I refuse to have such an influence in your life that you go by what I say… unlike some of your other friends." They did have a lot of influence. He was right. Sometimes it was hard to see that he was right most of the time. He was not like a sixteen year-old. I don't think he was ever younger than thirty in his entire life. I wanted to poke at his soul and ask it how old it was. In fact, I just wanted to poke _him_ to lighten the mood a bit. I was too busy poking at my shoelaces, however, and I didn't think that he would appreciate that. But, what the hell… With my wand, I poked him in the shoulder. "Hey!" He brought his hand up to cover it as if it really hurt him.

"You were becoming entirely too serious."

"And you weren't? _Do I act different around you?_ Meh. Meh. Meh." He mocked.

"I just wanted to know. I mean, don't you think that people act differently around different people? Take yourself as an example. You act completely different around me than you do… say… James."

"Potter! Poor example. Of course I'm going to act differently around him than I do you. He's an imbecile and you're…"

I'm?

"You're…"

"I'm..?"

"You're you." I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I tried to hide my face away, but he caught me. He caught me, red-faced and all. Before I turned my face away from him, I caught a glimpse of a smile… no, a _smirk_ creeping up on his lips… and it made me blush even more. I looked away from him for a while, until I knew the blush had faded.

"And I've never seen anyone turn as red as you had just then. What are you blushing about? I said nothing remarkably embarrassing. You're you. Remus Lupin. You." He touched my shoulder on his last "you", adding emphasis. He held his hand there, and I didn't know whether to look at his hand or at his face or at my shoes or at the distance.

Yes, I was _me_, but it was the way he said it. You. As if I was someone important. You. As if I was above all others. You. As if I was something _sacred_.

But I looked at him, "And you're Severus Snape." And his name remained in my mind for a very long time. Even after we parted.

* * *

It was only a chaste kiss on my cheek that he gave me. He needn't have run away, but he did. I know why he did. If I had kissed another boy I would have run away, terrified, as well. It was out of fear, I suppose, that he ran. Fear of what would happen next (what _would_ happen next?), fear of being caught and what that might mean for the both of us. I imagine it would be worse for him. I just stood there like a fool as it happened, _and_ after. I tried not to look at him but I knew that he was looking at me and I had to confirm that it happened. It did happen. The look on his face told me all. He was horrified, even more than I was. Truth be told, it wasn't wrong that he kissed me. It was more surprising than anything.

We had been brought closer, somehow. It's the kind of thing that happens when you're conversing with someone you like. You want to lean in and get a better listen. They want to lean in for you to hear. But that's not all. It has something to do with magnetism. We were drawn to each other despite everything going against us. We still remained friends even if no one could understand why. I often found myself drawn closer to him, especially recently. I never understood, until now, what it is I was searching for in his face. Simply, I was looking for a place in which to kiss him. He just happened to be much quicker and bolder than I. He got to me first, which was what I was secretly hoping to happen. I couldn't be the one to make the first move, I didn't know how to move; just where.

I stand here, now, like a fool. I honestly don't know where to go from here. I could walk on further. I see the Whomping Willow waving at me like it knows I'll be seeing it soon. The castle is behind me and I do not care to see it or anyone else who might be around it. Someone could have been watching out the window. There could have been someone right behind us, although I'm sure he would check before doing such a thing. There are people all around this place; we're doomed for certain. I need to return eventually, though. I can't continue to walk around all evening, as cold as it is out here. I need to get into bed and hide under the covers and feel afraid for him and for me. (What I really need to do is pack my things and send word to my parents that I have to go back home). I have to do something other than stand here, dumbfounded.

"Remus!" It was someone other than him coming my way. "Remus, there you are! You won't believe what I just witnessed!" Sirius put his arm around my shoulder.

"Wh--- what?" I barely mustered.

"Snape, being sick all over the shoes of some Slytherin!"

I didn't know what to say. I thought I might be sick myself, hearing this. I wanted to run away from Sirius and catch up with Severus and make sure that he was okay. I wanted to tell him that what he did was not wrong and that he needn't worry (although I was doing that already). Most important, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him on his cheek or his forehead or his lips, anywhere… so that he might know…

Sirius pulled at my jumper. "So are you coming, or no? I'll show you the exact place it happened."

I showed neither excitement nor detachment for what Sirius had to show me. I followed along and prayed I wouldn't be sick in the same spot.

* * *

I swear, we weren't following each other. I swear it. As I mentioned, our class schedule was similar if not identical. Our habits were similar as well. Even our interests were similar. Namely, we wanted to be alone. We complained to each other that we wanted to be alone. But did we want to be alone _really_? I could ask him that now. I could ask him why he was always at the same Quidditch matches, or at the library after supper, or in the courtyard when I just have to get out of the stuffy castle. I could ask, but did I really want to know? Was it anything that that kiss didn't already answer?

As soon as I could leave Sirius, I would see if I could find Severus. Of course he gave me no clue as to where he'd be. He never did. He was always conveniently there. He was conveniently there as I was taking a walk. He was conveniently there when he could no longer keep that kiss of his to himself. He had to share it. I was convinced that that kiss could find me no matter where I was. In the dark, even.

Did I really think of him _romantically_ or was it just some silly crush? Some silly confusion that sometimes school boys have? But how many stories have I heard about blokes kissing other blokes, really? I mean, other than someone joking around? This didn't happen that often… or at least not that often that I would hear about it all the time. It wasn't something that someone would want to admit willingly, was it? Was it something that happened to James or Peter or Sirius? Surely not.

"You a'right, Remus?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. I'm… I'm a little anxious."

"Full moon in a few days, right?"

"Right. Full moon." I scratched the side of my face (no, not that side) and looked away from him in fear that he could read my thoughts by looking into my eyes. Meanwhile, Severus' kiss was burning my other cheek. "Um, you know… I think I'm going to go for a walk. Sitting around really does nothing for my nerves."

"Want some company? I'm feeling kind of restless, myself."

"I was thinking about going alone, if you don't mind. I might stop at the library, flip through a couple of books and see if anything catches my eye."

"You'd think you'd know all the books there with all the times you've been there." Sirius joked.

"You'd think…" I attempted to laugh.


	2. Marked Just the Same

_**Marked Just the Same**_

"So you didn't disappear off the face of the Earth?" Without looking up, I could determine who it was that just approached the table. There was only one person who cast a shadow such as that on the surface of the table. There was only one person who smelled as if he never left the indoors. I looked up to confirm. I was correct. It was _Him_. I decided not long ago that he shall be referred to as "him" or possibly a "Him", with a capital "H" for emphasis. I felt that he couldn't just be a "Snape". Severus, maybe. Although Severus was _severe, _it seemed a much warmer and friendlier name to be called. That and everyone in the damned school referred to him as Snape or Snivellus or sometimes something worse. It hurt me to hear it just as much as it hurt to say it, but I had to refer to him in such a fashion around the others, lest they not know whom I was speaking of. 'Severus'? Who in wizardry is that? "'Severus'? Who in wizardry is that?" I spoke again. It seemed fitting for the moment.

The boy frowned and then turned to leave.

"Severus!" I called, a little too loudly.

He faced me once again and spoke, "Yes, that is my name and forgive me if I think that sarcasm does not favour you."

"It does you."

"How kind of you to say." He waited for a reply, and when he didn't receive one he asked, "Will you walk with me?" He looked around, nervously and leaned in, "This is not the proper place in which to have the conversation that I believe will be presenting itself."

"You _want_ to talk?" I leaned in closer, making him even more nervous, I suppose.

"It's not a matter of wanting to talk, so much as it is owing you an explanation." He said quietly, backing away with an awkward step.

"You don't owe me any explanation…."

He looked surprised. Surprised, but relieved and maybe a little bit disappointed. "Well then, goodnight Remus." He nodded his head and started off to leave.

I stood and reached out to grab his arm. His eyes widened, as did mine, as we were both surprised by my reaction. He stared at my hand as if it was burning his arm. I stared at it as if was stuck there. After a very _delayed_ reaction, I released him. The look of shock still remained on his face. Maybe it wasn't so much shock as it was horror. I couldn't tell in his case. "You don't have to leave yet."

"Well, you don't have to." I added shortly after.

"Can we just leave here?" He said, worried.

"Yes." I left my place at the table and my books to follow him out of the library.

"Reading anything interesting?" The boy asked, in a hurry to leave the room.

"Erm, no. I was just flipping through."

"Looking at the pretty pictures?" He laughed. He kept the pace quickened.

"What!" I laughed along with him. "No… no. I might have said 'browsing through' instead. Would that have been better?"

"Either way you really weren't reading it. What type of book was it? I didn't recognize it as any we've been studying in class."

"You wouldn't have recognized it; it wasn't a book on Potions."

"I'll have you know that I read a great deal. _More _than just Potions. I'll admit that that is the bulk of my studies, but not all of it. You might not believe it, but there are other things that interest me."

"For example?"

"Things that probably wouldn't interest you, I'm sure. So, what were you _glancing_ at? There's another good verb you could have used."

"Would you believe me if I said it was a book about Muggles?"

"I'd believe you, but I would be horrified to discover that. Besides, you should be studying up on Potions… yes, I know, back to that subject… but that's really the class you should focus on. You could do better this term, but instead of studying you read on about Muggles. It's a shame. I blame it on you being placed in Gryffindor. Your priorities are all scrambled."

"I blame it on my study partner being absent."

"Yes, that. Well, we could start up again… unless of course you'd like to forget all about it, and about _me_. In fact I know a memory charm that can wipe it clean from your memory, if that's what you'd like. It's simple, really, and only with the minimal amount of damage to the rest of your memories. There's been a great amount of research going on in the field of memory charms… I don't know if you've read up on it, but now that we know so much more about the mind than we have in previous years…"

I cut him off. "As much as a fascinating study it is, I don't think that we have to resort to memory charms, er, just yet."

"Just remember what I mentioned."

If I were bold, I would mention that I wouldn't even consider it.

* * *

The map showed Severus Snape pacing in the Slytherin common room; awake and alone at this hour of night. What kept him awake? Why couldn't he stand still? He nearly made me dizzy watching his name go back and forth about the tiny box that represented the room containing him. I admit that I shouldn't be checking on his whereabouts at this hour or any hour, really… but there are times that I need to know that he is still in the castle. There are times that I need to know that he is safe within its walls. 

There were rumours about Severus. I know that people talk about him and spread foul lies about him just to make him look bad. Making Severus look bad seemed to be a favorite pastime for most Hogwarts students, especially those in our own class. He knew this, himself, but never tried to confirm or deny any of the rumours. I'm not sure why he never stood up for himself. Maybe he didn't know how to. Maybe he just wanted people to believe what they wanted to believe – in the process making himself seem like a more interesting person. But no one seemed interested in anything other than trying to make him look like a fool or get him angry. So, what was the use? As far as I was concerned, he was just someone who had nothing to hide but his feelings and nothing else.

But if you really thought about the things that people had been saying lately, you would question it yourself. He always held himself higher than those wizards in the school that weren't of the purest bloodlines. It might even be more than that --- those not in pureblood families might even repulse him. I've known this about him from the moment I got to know him. That wasn't any secret. In fact, there were other students like him who didn't keep it a secret either. One could even go as far to say that most of them were in Slytherin. It wasn't anything new, though. This kind of hatred has been going on for centuries and will continue to go on as long as wizard parents raise their children in similar beliefs.

These beliefs that he held always scared me, especially being who I am. He's said some absurdly offensive things about werewolves that nearly made me run off, but I had to stop myself from doing so in fear of giving myself completely away. I had to tell myself that it wasn't entirely the boy's fault and that he was a good person and intelligent but maybe it just stemmed back to his upbringing. You think that an intelligent person would be able to reach beyond that, but he still was young and impressionable, right? One day, when he's older and meets more wizards maybe he'll see the flaw in his parent's prejudices. I keep telling myself that, and I might just believe it. Still, the thought that he would completely drop me as a friend if he knew of my illness never left my mind. I convinced myself that he would never find out, though, so I am all right now. Yet another thing I keep telling myself and strangely believe.

With all that said, you would think that an intelligent person such as Severus would not associate with a group of people who wanted to completely diminish wizards with less than the purest blood. You would think that a person with the potential to do so much more than just spread hate and destruction would stay away from such a plan. Hm. I shouldn't listen to rumours. People like to talk. Everything that should be private can be made completely known to everyone that wants to know and that wants to keep everyone informed about things that aren't their business to begin with. Can I help it, though, if anytime anyone speaks his name I am instantly interested? Can I help it if it was a discussion that just carried out between Sirius and James earlier? I can't help what people talk about. I can help what I hear, that is all. Perhaps I should have gone somewhere else if I didn't really want to listen.

Back to the map, knowing that Severus was safe in the castle wasn't my only reason for holding it at this hour. I don't mean to stalk the boy, but should he leave the castle in the middle of the night for any reason, I should know about it. I suppose that if the rumours are true, it's in my best interest to know about it. He certainly hasn't told me about anything. But then again, he hasn't told me about a lot of things… we haven't exactly had the most informative of conversations as of late. Especially after he kissed me that day, he has made it a point to keep his distance, even if it is rather awkwardly. That's not to say we don't talk. We just don't let the conversation reach a certain point. I suppose it's best that way, though. Even if things are left unsaid, it's known that the both of us are extremely confused about the situation and any more exposure to feelings that we may or may not have towards each other might make us…. I don't know…

And his name moved.

"Severus!"

He stopped in his tracks, putting his hand out to the tree to stop him from going any further. He turned and saw me. As I approached him, he did not move from his place, but only watched me carefully. He was surprised, to say the least, to see me.

"Severus," I said, out of breath. "What brings you out this time of night?"

"I should ask you the same thing." He looked down at my hand that held the map.

"I asked first."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm out to collect some supplies for a potion I'm currently working on. A flower that's only effective when collected at this time of night."

"You're a horrible liar."

"And what should I say of you? Have you no shame following me out of the castle? In your pajamas, no less? I didn't know you were keeping track of my whereabouts. Are you that obsessed?" He looked me over, acting as if he was disgusted. He acted that way when all he really

was was surprised and maybe frightened.

"So, it's really none of my business where you're off to at this time?"

"In fact, it's not."

"You know what they're saying about you, Severus, don't you?"

"No, _Lupin_. What are they saying these days? I can only guess." He said, with a hint of disinterest in his voice, but still bad acting on his part.

I came closer to him. "They're saying…" Closer still, until my face was nearly pressed to his. He was breathing as heavy as mine was, out of breath from running. He was even more nervous than I was, being this close. This is the closest we've been since he kissed me. And even as I was upset at him at the things he had said, and even as I was upset at him for what he might be, I could still kiss him. I could have very well pushed him, too, though.

"WHAT are they saying!" He shouted.

I grabbed his arm. The same one I grabbed before when he tried to leave in the library. "They say you have the Dark Mark. I don't believe them. I don't believe that an intelligent person such as yourself would get himself into that kind of mess."

He laughed. "You came out here to find out if I have a mark on my arm?" He pulled away from me. "You came all the way out _here _to see if I have the mark?" He walked away. As he did, he unbuttoned his coat and flung it at me. The coat landed at my feet. Then, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it down to his own feet once it was off him. He turned to face me again, and in doing so, revealed to me his arm.

With nothing left for us to say, he gathered his shirt and coat and ran off without caring to put them on again. As for myself, I backed up into a tree and sunk down to the ground, scraping my back along the tree as I did. The pain didn't matter to me. That I dropped the map and that it could very well blow away in the wind didn't matter to me. He didn't matter to me. No, not anymore.

That's right, Remus, keep telling yourself that.

* * *

Some time near dawn, I woke to the sound of leave crunching beneath someone's feet. I did not open my eyes right away, to give the impression that I was asleep. They came closer, whoever it was, and when they finally reached me the footsteps stopped. Whoever it was stood there for a while. They did not speak. I heard a heavier thud against the ground and leaves and then I felt someone curl up next to me. Their head was on my chest. They lifted their hand and placed it over my heart. I breathed in, taking in the scent of their hair. It was the smell of someone who never left the indoors. Someone who never left the indoors unless they were summoned somewhere else by someone else. 

"You don't need them, Severus. Surely you know that."

"But I do. You have your friends and I have mine. And before you tell me that I can leave them, just imagine that I ask the same as you. They have you marked just the same."

I knew that we could only stay there a short while longer, so I said nothing further. I wanted to argue with him that it wasn't the same. I wanted to yell at him and punch him and make him promise that he would never go to them again. But I knew what that mark meant. And I knew that moments alone like these were hard to come by when you're surrounded twenty-four hours a day.


	3. Find Me A Home

_**Find Me A Home**_

For the life of me, I could not get warm. I was in the Slytherin common room, by myself, but not alone. Too close to the others to feel comfortable but too far away from the fire to keep warm. I could feel a scowl start to form on my face, something that happened all too often these days. I wonder if there ever was a time I could remember smiling at all. This is all very depressing being alone and being in a foul mood. This is all very depressing because at seventeen years old I should remember the last smile I had. I should be having more fun that this, stuck in the common room until I felt ready to actually fall asleep.

Falling asleep was a different matter. Mum sent an owl this afternoon; the words contained within were enough to keep the sleepiest person awake for days. I believe it was after the fifth time I read the letter that I finally decided to put it away in my cloak. She decides to update me on what has been going on at home. It's never a pleasant tale. I'm glad that they're doing this without me there, their separation. Another moment of hearing their fighting that bordered on physical violence, another moment of the quiet that came afterwards when they wouldn't speak to each other or myself and surely I'd go mad. It was getting old at this point. From what my mother said, the argument they had went beyond any normal day-to-day occurrence. And because of that, she left our house. I wonder if she left my things, or if she expects me to go back there to that foul man to go get them. I hope not. In any case, she's going to be staying at her aunt's house. She didn't mention which one. But she did mention that she would be "amongst wizards now. Not awful Muggles and their awful houses and their awful lifestyles. Really Severus, I'm not certain why I got into a relationship with your father in the first place. I was never fond of Muggles, you know that, and when I married your father I really did think that he was different. It turns out that he was just the same as all of them: without a clue."

Now, she did say this numerous times to other people. I've heard her talking about how miserable her life is. She's never said this to me directly, and it kind of makes me nervous. I don't know whether I should write back to her to console her and let her know that everything was going to be okay… because it was. Maybe I should write back and tell her that 's what she gets for associating with Muggles, but this was my father I was talking about and maybe I had just the slightest bit of respect left for him. Or not. She would probably scold me for saying such things about my father, even when she said even worse things about him herself, but that's just how she is. But why should I show any loyalty towards my father? From the moment I was aware of my (magical) capabilities, he was aware, and the man seemed to walk on awkward eggshells around my mother and I. Slowly I think he came to resent us and possibly even hate us. In time, I saw the things that my father admired and loved in my mother turn into something he loathed. I never really understood that. I never really understood why he had to call me a freak behind my back and ask my mother why his only son couldn't be normal. But that was nothing. My father had nothing on me. Had he been to Hogwarts to see how I'm treated here, how I'm insulted and teased and mocked, he would see that what he did or said was nothing in comparison. Besides, he can't even touch me know. I'm going to be living with Mum and her aunts. I'm going to be living amongst wizards and my family life might just turn out to be how it should have been: muggle-free.

I patted my pocket to make sure the note was still in there. Once back in my room, after the other beasts are asleep, I'll place it in my box of letters from home. They're all from Mum. He doesn't write to me while I'm away. I'm sure he finds it peaceful at home while I'm not there. I'm sure that for a moment he can live the life he's always dreamed of, Severus-free. I know that I wasn't wanted in the first place. That I'm a wizard makes it even worse for him. No need for him to write and pretend like he misses me. I don't need that. I don't even need letters from my Mum. She knows I'm better off being here than in that god awful house. Her sending letters is only a painful reminder, but she does what she wants.

The only letters I didn't mind getting were from one Remus Lupin. The boy actually wrote me while he and the others were on holiday during Christmas and Easter and I stayed here at school, or while we were both home for the Summer holiday. I kept the letters that he sent in a box at home. Damn, yet another thing I have to worry about taking with me when I move. It was rather pathetic that I kept them all. You would think I was a sentimental fool. Maybe I was, but the thought of throwing all those letters away when he put all that effort into sending an owl all that way seemed wrong. They were from Remus, and Remus was actually tolerable. I didn't always write back, though. Most of the time I didn't know what to write about. They would end up being just a long list of complaints about home and about school and I very much doubt that he would want to read such things all the time. Why Remus continued to write to me over the years, considering my horrible correspondence skills, was always surprising. He didn't seem to mind all that much that I wouldn't write back. At least, he wouldn't get on my case about it like my Mum did. Merlin forbid I should not write back within 3 hours of receiving a letter. The next day I'm sure to receive a howler… another reason why I should write to her before I get lost in thought and tired and stumble into bed forgetting about it all. But Remus and my mother were two very different people. He was just the type of person to go with the flow of things and not get too uptight. Maybe it was that he just didn't care, but really I knew better than that. Remus Lupin was a sweetheart and cared very much about me no matter how foul I was towards him. Sometimes, when he wasn't too shy he would actually show it. Maybe sometimes I would show it, too… but let's not go too far.

Our friendship was reaching a rather strange point. I know that our friendship has always been rather strange. We really shouldn't be talking to each other or doing what ever it is we do. If Remus had been sorted into Slytherin, what a far-fetched idea, I know, but a thought I often entertain, there would be no problem with the two of us being best friends. That would be a stretch, because let's face it, I'm not friends with anyone, nor do I want to be. (Er, Remus excluded). Remus didn't seem to have a best friend, either. He was good pals with his roommates, sure, but he wasn't as close to them as say…. James and Sirius are with each other. That leaves Peter Pettigrew, and Remus seemed too detached from even him to be his best friends. There was no denying their closeness, though. Remus voiced once that he preferred solitude. It was a preference of mine as well, so hearing him say that was in a way comforting. Well, it was to me. In a way, we could be alone… together. But that thought was too frightening… it was all frightening and exciting and comforting all at once.

Yes, Remus made my heart skip a beat once or twice, but he was by no means the most attractive boy at Hogwarts. He wasn't the ugliest, either. When he wasn't spending his time looking ill and lonely and perhaps a bit weary, he was actually good-looking. One might even say that he was attractive. I've never heard anyone say it, but that's not to say that no one has never thought of it before. Come to think about it, I do think that someone else has a little crush (or not so little) on Remus, but to think of it was miserable and I won't even mention his name although I see his (yes, his) smug little face in my mind being all…. smug. In all, there has to be a reason I find the shy boy attractive. Maybe it was his personality. Maybe it was his interests. Maybe it was because he was the only person in the world who seemed to really care about me or give me any kind of positive attention. Maybe it was because I thought here was a possibility he might feel the same way as I. It was so hard to tell, though.

But then, Remus did smile at me in the hall today. The only thing that made this day tolerable, not excellent, but tolerable, was the smile he sent me as we passed each other in the hall. That was the only thing. Otherwise, this day would have been as miserable as any other. You see, it seems that I am a very complex person who needs to be impressed by great, near impossible things; when really it only takes a genuine smile to do it. Of course, I can't have anyone knowing this. Remus, maybe. What would he think if I told him that? What if I told him that no matter how infuriated I am, I can be calmed by him even just for a moment. For that moment, we are the center of each other's attention. For a moment, I even think of smiling myself. I almost do. Isn't that amazing?

What is it that he is expecting of me when he smiles, though? I'm not quite sure. I don't know if he just wants to see me smile or if he's just acknowledging me or if he wants me to know that he's thinking of me (if only for that moment)? Although he's shy, he isn't that afraid to show his smile in public because he's so friendly. So much more friendly than I've ever been or ever will be, I'm afraid. I never understood the reasoning behind smiling at someone you barely know or one of your classmates just because you want to show that you're friendly even if you'd rather not have anything to do with them. The smile in this case is just a mask. Is his smile just a mask? I can't tell with him. I can't tell if he wants to be in their company or if he'd rather be alone. I imagine, from what he's told me, that he'd rather be alone. He seems that type. Whatever that type may be.

I don't want to make assumptions about him. I don't know him very well. Or, at least, I should say that I don't know him as well as I'd like to. That's a great statement to be putting out there right now. I have never admitted to myself wanting to get to know anyone better. I mean, there's my family, but I know just about all that I want to know about them. There are certain people in this school that are interesting and have personalities, but when I'm not drawing ridiculous attention to myself they don't know that I exist. If they do know that I exist, then I'm just that strange boy over in the corner, there. The one who finds socializing beyond awkward. The one who pours over that book like there's no tomorrow. The one who they call Snivellus or whatever foul name they can imagine. They don't do a very good job with any other names. As it turns out, Snivellus is the most imaginative they could come up with and therefore it has stuck around as long as it has. It was infuriating at first, I have to admit, but after awhile it just became a name and it's kind of funny if your really think about it. James was right on when he first started calling me that. He is a bright boy. If things were different, I think he might even be fun to be friends with. But, I only bring this situation up because for some reason I trust Remus' judgement. He wouldn't be friends with such a complete arse, would he?

Scratch that, he would.


	4. Disappearing Theme

**_Disappearing Theme_**

_Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?  
Would you be an outlaw for my love?  
If it's so, then let me know,  
If it's no then I can go,  
and I won't make you..._

_- Big Star, Thirteen_

_

* * *

_  
At this rate, I will never be able to find anything out about Remus Lupin. He talks and what he says is interesting and I like to listen to his voice because it's rather soothing but he talks about things other than himself. I wonder if he does this on purpose or if he's really that awkward and shy. I suppose I don't make it easy for him or anyone else to speak to me. If I were in his close circle of friends, would I know more about him? If I were as fun-loving as Potter, would I know what makes Remus the happiest? If I were as sensitive as Black, would I know what was most important to Remus? If I was as attached as Pettigrew, would I know what Remus likes to do in his quiet, alone hours?

I was none of those things, though. I had to make do with what I had. All I had right now was him walking next to me. He was going on about astronomy, about something we learned about the moon. I pretended that I was watching my footing every time he glanced over at me when really I was studying his face while he looked ahead, away from me. I let him go on ahead of me, a bit. I let him go on talking. His voice really was comforting. His voice always sounded so intelligent. He could be going on about the most ridiculous and childish thing, but he sounded grown up, so much more than others our age did. I liked this maturity. I found it attractive.

He stopped to point something out in the sky. He didn't notice that I moved closer to him, or maybe he did and decided not to make a big deal of it. He could very well feel as frightened and as tense as I do now, but had a better way of hiding it. He looked at me for a moment, regarding my closeness, but still going on as if this was very important information. The thing is, I've studied this section countless times and could give a just as effective demonstration as he was; perhaps even better, although he certainly knew what he was talking about. Yes, tell me, Remus. I nodded at his observation.

He didn't falter in his speech. At this point, if I was in his place, I would have cracked. I would have yelled at him and wondered what the hell his insistent staring was all about. I would have asked him to stop so that I continue on with my observation. Maybe even to be a bit dramatic about it, I would stomp off in frustration so that he would come following me. And then, maybe I would yell at him some more and belittle him. It's what I do. But I didn't want to belittle him. No, I couldn't belittle him because at this moment, he seemed so... kissable. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him or knock him down just to touch him in some way, because not touching him was wretched. It was miserable. He was absolutely adorable right now, in only the way that Remus Lupin could be adorable and it made me want to be sick. But before I was sick, I had to find out...

I nearly knocked him over with it's quickness. It was right on the cheekbone. Right there where I had been aiming for a good minute. I wanted a reaction, but he was barely able to give me one. He looked at me, surprised, but not particularly mortified. He just stood there. He could have said something. Honestly, he could have said to go away and it would have been better than just standing there. But, I instantly recognized the expression on his face. He didn't want to move because... there could have been someone watching. I didn't look around. I didn't want to know if there had been someone there because there was. I knew it and he knew it, but acknowledging it would be wrong. It didn't matter who it was, but just that there was someone. This place was infested. There was always someone there to witness moments like these. In your lowest and highest moments someone was standing by with a dumb expression on their face. And wasn't it absolutely perfect? Severus Snape, Snivellus, kissing a boy and not just some bloody Slytherin, but some horrid Gryffindor. I couldn't have possibly kissed anyone worse. But it wasn't wrong.

I opened my mouth, because an apology was in order, but I couldn't even pronounce anything. I knew that if I stayed there a moment longer, I would have vomited on Remus' shoes. The kiss was embarrassing enough. I didn't need for anything else to happen in front of him. I had done enough, hadn't I? It was okay for me to be ridiculed over this, but there was no need for him to be. I hoped that whoever saw us had enough sense to keep quiet. I really wanted to say something, to call myself an idiot for thinking he could ever possibly want me to kiss him, but I couldn't. I ran away because I'm a baby.

It was doubtful that I could make it to the washroom before spewing out the entire contents of this afternoon's tea, but I tried. I just about made it to the entrance, but there was someone in my way. Sirius Black, looking a bit pale, a bit concerned, but mostly surprised to see me. He opened his mouth to say something foul, most likely, but just as I passed him, I stopped in my tracks and let the vomit come out. Surely, that would satisfy him. He could go off and tell Potter and Pettigrew... and Remus... what he witnessed. It would probably keep him going for days. They could discuss it at length. They could pass me in the hall, making retching noises, or better yet, throw vomit flavored jelly beans at me. But it would be worse than that even. I hadn't noticed that when I stopped to vomit, that I was about to vomit over someone's shoes. I recognized the shoe style and the green socks. I had been sick on a Slytherin, my own housemate. I would have to live with this in the dormitory, now. I would have to crawl in a hole and die.

* * *

"There have been recent developments in memory charms --- you may want to take a look at this week's Witch Weekly ---"

"Madame Pince, I dare not open that magazine in fear that my intelligence be insulted."

"Well," the librarian shook her head, "make sure that your memory charms don't work too well that you don't return your books."

"I'll be sure to return them before I do any damage." I grabbed the Witch Weekly hastily.

"That's a boy..."

I signed out the books and ran from the library in fear of seeing that Remus boy. It's true, I was avoiding him. I didn't want to, really, but I couldn't face him. Instead of meeting in the library or in the courtyard, I made sure that I was nowhere around those places. It was terribly obvious, though. I'm certain that he's seen my blurry figure run past, or the expression of terror on my face if I accidentally shared a corridor with him. He might want to say something to me. He might want to say that it's better off we not be friends. He might want to tell me that I'm an awful person. He might want to tell me he wished I never existed. But worst of all -- and by worst, I mean best --- he might want to kiss me, too.

I felt like I was in a time trap. The scene played over and over in my mind. His hand was pointed to something in the sky. I looked up, to be polite, but I only placed my stare back to his face. To his cheek. The force that brought me to his cheek has not left. If anything, it's worse. It's worse because at that moment, I was just seeking a reaction from him. Yes, it was more than that, I realize that now, but if I didn't care what his reaction would be, I wouldn't have done it. Now I know how Remus Lupin reacts to things... he reacts in his own mind. He didn't reach for me and kiss me back, he just stood there and I'm sure that his mind was racing but he was absolutely frozen. And that is how he is time and time again. That is how he is with his friends. He's no different around me than he is around his friends. I thought he was... didn't I even say that once to him? Didn't I once say that he was more like himself when he was with me? Didn't I once think that I was special and more deserving of his attention than say, his friends?

Let me learn how to erase this from my memory. Surely, I could learn on my own. They're not going to teach this in class. They never teach any of the good stuff. They teach out of moldy books written by mediocre wizards. They leave out the details. What I learn in class is nothing compared to what I learn on my own. I would leave this school if I could tolerate being at home. Imagine having all the time in the world to study what I wanted to and not have to worry about what the teachers aren't telling me or the students that can't learn so they keep the rest of the class behind.

I don't need to erase everything. I just need to erase that moment and perhaps any time he's touched me in a playful way or smiled some gorgeous smile or in any general way made me feel happy. That way, when I look at him, I can look at him as I do his other friends and not care if bad things were to happen to him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it's him I'm worried about and not myself. I'm worried about what he's thinking. Maybe if I just erase this all from his memory this would all be settled. He wouldn't have to be strange about it. I wouldn't have to avoid him and be even more strange. We could pick up where we left off. But not before I worked on this memory charm...


End file.
